


The Comfort of Confection

by inksheddings



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, OotP Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 15:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1353022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inksheddings/pseuds/inksheddings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius gets into the Christmas spirit -- only it's February.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Comfort of Confection

****  
The Comfort of Confection   


He was cold. He was tired. He was not in good spirits.  
  
As soon as Harry and the other children had returned to Hogwarts after Christmas, Dumbledore had sent Remus off on what turned out to be a rather pointless recruitment mission. He had indeed made contact with the small group of reluctant banshees, but it had taken him longer than expected to locate them. He’d run headlong into an approaching full moon when negotiations had barely begun. The banshees had not been pleased. Gracious, yes, he supposed, as they’d afforded Remus with a safe place to transform and ride out the night. They’d even given him a day to recuperate before ever so kindly asking him to leave and take Dumbledore’s promises with him.  
  
It was late, but Remus knew he’d have a hell of a time falling asleep. As he made his way down to the kitchen, hoping to find a bottle of anything alcoholic to help ease the tension he carried bone deep, he heard quiet noises -- mutterings and kitchen utensils.  
  
Remus didn’t need to hear much or see anything to know it was Sirius puttering around. If he was lucky, the Firewhiskey was open and on the table.  
  
It was. As well as an extra glass.  
  
“Ah! You’ve returned, Remus! And right on time,” Sirius greeted him with a wide, welcoming smile, as well as an appraisal or two. His hands seemed occupied with ... something rather sticky.  
  
Remus returned the smile, if with a slightly perplexed expression.  
  
“Right on time, did you say? You were expecting me then, Padfoot?” he asked as he poured a large helping of Firewhiskey into the waiting glass.  
  
He could make out what appeared to be sugar and some sort of nuts as Sirius continued ... cooking? ... with whatever it was, but he turned to face Remus and gave him a more subdued grin.  
  
“Every time you make it back in one piece is right on time, Moony.”  
  
Remus felt his heart beat a little faster at his words. He wondered, not for the first time, how such a reaction was even remotely possible after all they’d been through, both together and apart. Yet, here they were, making something of it after all.  
  
Sirius was licking the sticky substance from his fingers, bringing Remus back into the moment.  
  
“What is it that you’re doing, Sirius?”  
  
Sirius smiled wickedly, raising an eyebrow.  
  
“Rum balls.”  
  
Remus laughed out loud at the thoroughly unexpected answer.  
  
“Where on earth did you learn to make a muggle delicacy such as rum balls?”  
  
“Hermione.”  
  
“Ah. Should have known.”  
  
“She was prattling on about how she’d been conceived while her parents were under the influence of this tasty, holiday delight.”  
  
Remus’s horror must have been evident in his expression.  
  
“Yes, I somehow managed to keep my cringe focused inward as she told me of the fateful New Year’s Eve party her parents had attended and ... well, I’ve blocked the rest of it out. Anyhow, the recipe did sound rather enticing ... as do the apparent side effects.”  
  
Sirius was openly leering now, and if Remus had still been nineteen, he might have blushed. But he’d learned a thing or two since then.  
  
“What? You want to have a baby, Padfoot?”  
  
Sirius clutched at his chest in feigned insult.  
  
“You wound me, Remus, wound me with your mockery.”  
  
Remus downed the rest of his Firewhiskey and refilled his glass.  
  
“Would you like some help then?”  
  
“Love some.”  
  
“Well.”  
  
As they shaped and rolled the rum balls, Sirius continued to occasionally lick and suck his fingers clean.  
  
“Sirius, that’s disgusting.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Your fingers -- the mixture, the licking, the sucking -- it’s not exactly sanitary.”  
  
There was that leer again.  
  
“You’ve never complained about my licking and sucking before, you know.”  
  
And his heart beat sped up again. This time, however, the rapid _beat beat_ of his heart was accompanied by the sensation of heat, spreading its way across his body from his chest.  
  
“Besides, Remus, how are we supposed to get drunk together if we don’t have a little taste, eh?”  
  
Remus took a sip of his Firewhiskey, answering wordlessly.  
  
“My way is quite a bit more fun, I should think. Come on, Remus. Where’s your Christmas spirit?”  
  
“It’s well past the new year, Sirius. It’s February! Christmas spirit, indeed. Bah humbug.”  
  
“Wha’?”  
  
“Never mind. Fine. Have it your way.”  
  
He grabbed Sirius’s hand and brought it up to his mouth. Slowly, he began licking the remnants of corn syrup and powdered sugar off of his index finger, starting at the tip and working his way down to the knuckle and back up again. By the time he started sucking in earnest, Sirius’s other hand was clutching at the counter for support. His breath was rapid and shallow, his eyes glazed over.  
  
“You never could resist my charms for long, Moony,” he somehow managed.  
  
“Says the man desperate enough to resort to seduction by muggle confection.”  
  
“Not desperate, Remus. Just hopeful,” he replied, pulling Remus against him.  
  
And that was the core of it. Hope. The thing they clung to as fiercely as they clung to each other. The hope that someday Harry would be safe, Sirius would be free, and they could start living more than just moment to moment. Day to day would even be an improvement. Not a lot to hope for. Not really.  
  
“We’ve got that much, don’t we, Remus?” Sirius asked, his warm breath tickling Remus’s ear. He suddenly sounded so young, so uncertain, almost as he had the first time hope had sprung between the two of them; a hope that had grown into more than just lingering glances and “accidental” touches.  
  
“If we haven’t run out of it by now, I think we’re safe,” Remus replied, stroking his hair -- never mind his own sticky fingers.  
  
Sirius pushed him slightly back and gave him a grave look.  
  
“You’ve been home for ages and I haven’t even kissed you yet.”  
  
“But you left the Firewhiskey out for me. That makes up for an otherwise unforgivable oversight.”  
  
“Well, I refuse to be outdone by Firewhiskey.”  
  
Sirius kissed Remus tenderly, urging his mouth open with tongue and teeth. Remus pressed hard against him, savoring the warmth of the moment, as comforting as the scent of rum and cocoa in the air around them.  
  
“You taste like rum balls,” Remus said as the kiss came to a satisfying end.  
  
“You’re losing your touch, stating the obvious.”  
  
“Let’s finish up in here. I’ve several more obvious statements I’d like to make to you, Padfoot,” he replied, pressing his hips further forward and grinding slightly.  
  
“Grand idea,” Sirius agreed.  
  
So they finished rolling the rest of the rum balls, and Sirius -- making his one concession to magic during the entire process -- cast a cooling charm to help them set properly overnight.  
  
As they made their way up to bed, satisfied with a job well done, Sirius took hold of Remus’s hand and gave it a squeeze, and for the first time since he’d arrived home, Remus knew he wouldn't have any trouble falling -- and staying -- asleep.  
  
Probably much to Padfoot’s chagrin.  
  
As he fell into bed without doing more than removing his robes, he felt Sirius pull the covers up over their bodies and snuggle in, holding him close. A light kiss to the back of his neck followed, and then warm breath against his skin relaxed him further. Apparently, Sirius understood. He always had.  
  
Drifting off to sleep, intermingled thoughts of muggle sweets and Sirius following him down, Remus promised himself he’d make it up to Sirius in the morning, after a breakfast of rum balls.  
  
 **END**  


And in the holiday spirit, I'm passing on [](http://laurakatharine.livejournal.com/profile)[**laurakatharine**](http://laurakatharine.livejournal.com/)'s rum ball recipe:

3 cups Vanilla Wafers, crushed  
1 cup confectioners sugar  
1 cup nuts, chopped  
2 tbsp cocoa  
3 tbsp light corn syrup  
1/2 cup rum  
Mix all ingredients thoroughly.  
Shape into walnut-size balls and roll them in more powdered sugar.  
Place in an air-tight container for 24 hours.  



End file.
